I spent the last few hours in a fetal position on my daughter’s bed with a strapless black bra over my eyes. A strapless black bra because it was the first thing I could grab to block the obnoxious sunlight which seems to be everywhere in South Florida. I usually don’t mind the sun especially when on a beach vacation but today the combination of its happy yellow rays and no-dark-blinds-anywhere-in-the-apartment were not welcome.
I had a migraine. And when I have a migraine I cannot have light. Or sound. Or any sign of any life anywhere around me. Instead I need a dark place where I can be left completely alone while I focus on happy thoughts and hope the contraband Canadian pills I just took will kick in sooner rather than later.
The worst part about migraines is, of course, the pain as other migraine sufferers would tell you. But the next worst part about migraines—at least for me—is that I lose all ability to function. And with that I lose my ability to write. Which is why writing while having a migraine isn’t actually writing at all. Instead it’s agonizing over everything you want to write but cannot and, thus, developing an even bigger migraine.
More from the series WRITING WHILE: